It lacks seriousness."
I heard that mocking laugh again without emotion, except it might be for
a faint, far-off echo in my breast of the fisherman's own scorn. Above
all, I was weary, and willing to make my escape.
"We cannot help each other by standing here talking," I said, and added a
"good bye."
It was the last time, probably, that I should see the fisherman's face;
but he refused the valediction with a toss of the head.
"Oh, no!" he said; "it isn't time for my obsequies. I shall return to
town for a few days or weeks only; this detestable place has always
thrown a spell over me. I can't rid myself of it. Like the natives of
Wallencamp, I always drift back to it again."
It was growing dark. I found Madeline waiting for me in the lane.
Somewhat piqued at the persistency of the little woman's ministrations, I
informed her briefly, that I had found the fisherman in the school-house,
and had been conversing with him there; but she put her hand in my arm
with an air of unshaken confidence.
CHAPTER XVI.
GEORGE OLVER'S LOVE FOR BECKY.
"I'd like to see you alone a few minutes, teacher, if you please."
It was George Olver who spoke, in his sturdy, resolute bass.
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